Love is
by martinique
Summary: There are some places a friendship cannot take you, whatever you may wish. Gojyo knows this, and taunts himself the hard way. SanzoHakkai, GojyoHakkai. Oneshot, twt, limey.


**Love is…**

A/N: Written a long time ago now (nearly – two years perhaps?), and it ends the way it does. Awkward sentences frolic, beware. (?/!) And no, this isn't my usual fandom, and no, there won't be more. Just if you were wondering.

Pairing: Sanzo/Hakkai, Gojyo/Hakkai.

Warnings: TWT, no real setting as such. One-shot. Vague.

Rating: M

We sat around a table in the evening, as usual. He with his highly alcoholic mixture of something, you with your water, because you always were the sensible one, and I have sake. The normal, I just want to fall off the face of the earth. That's usual. When I look at you, and him, and see what I could have had, compare it to what I have. A best friend, or a…or what he has with you. Because that's what you said. I'm your best friend. And you don't want anything to come between that. You can live with losing Sanzo, you said, but not me. Now we both know that's not true. You're in love with him, you would die for him….

He turns and smiles at you suddenly, a smile from Sanzo stops the world spinning, albeit briefly. And I drag myself into your conversation.

"Trust me on this…" Sanzo whispers to you, and I wish I hadn't been so wrapped up in thoughts of you, so I knew what he was talking about. But you smile your sweet smile in return, and I'm taken back to that same fucking time and place when he'd whispered it to you before.

I doubted him. A lot. All along. You told me it was just his way, that he wasn't the affectionate type, as we waited for him to do some business, sitting in the back of Jeep. Goku wanted to know what we were talking about. I ignored him, focused on you.

"It's just his way."

"I don't trust him."

"Trust me." You replied, squeezing my shoulder, and I could do nothing but…because I loved you.

The same night as I dozed in a semi-drunken stupor on the table of our room, I heard him say the same thing to you, as he kissed your cheek and your throat. "Trust me." He led you away, out of our room and into his. To his bed.

It's not you I can't trust, it's him around you. The predatory look he gets in his eye, the way he can make you scream, so that I can hear it. Makes you moan as he slides his hand into your crotch, subtly, and you think I don't know. You thought I didn't know.

You both look back at me, as though waiting for my opinion on something. I wasn't listening to you. I take a mouthful of sake and look blank. Shrug. As quickly as you both look at me, you look away again, at each other. Drowning in your own happiness.

There was that moment where I saw too much. I couldn't stop myself. At first, just a quick glance through the window into the lit room. Sanzo kissing your jaw fiercely. I was stuck then, shivering in the cold outside, unable to move away, even as he shifted you against the wall. I could hear you moan, saw your eyes flutter close, the way your clad thighs opened to him. The way your hands gripped his shoulders, refusing to let him go, your head thrown back, open to a searching burning mouth. Slicked lips parted to kiss hungrily, I watched you both, hating it, hating the need evident on both your faces. I knew then…I couldn't compete. But I watched anyway. Watched the slow path trousers made down hips, watched as his hand went between you and you trembled for him, mouth parted.

I imagined it was I in Sanzo's position, filling you with need, making you scream my name. It didn't work. I knew I could never be anything more than a best friend to you. He opened your shirt, presenting your chest to him, vulnerable to caresses and kisses, seeking lips determined to make you moan. You are incoherent, I can tell that, and for a moment I feel like the intruder I am, spying in on this private moment of need. And I want to turn away, because that is what a best friend would do. But to be honest, I can't tear my eyes away from you, even as you let him in willingly, pulling you in, letting the rhythm take you in. I don't want to call it making love. He's fucking you against the wall, taking what he wants. And you're caught up in it. You think it is more than that, but I know it isn't. You need me. We need each other.

When you're finished, I turn away from the window, ashamed. I go to our room and think about you, lying in bed with him, thinking it is more than just lust. My hand trails down my body, and I stifle a cry that carries your name.

**The End**.


End file.
